


Loose Lips

by flightlessnerds



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, High School, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mention of Eating Disorders, Mild Sexual Content, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlessnerds/pseuds/flightlessnerds
Summary: “I love you,” Tyler says against his collarbone, and then, “Don’t tell anyone.”





	Loose Lips

**Author's Note:**

> this is another one of these things that i started two years ago and never finished. thought i might as well. oddly enough, this was inspired mostly by the second rap verse in ode to sleep.
> 
> the sexual content is just a small mention and very chill, fyi, because yeah they're teenagers.

They meet in art class. For a six-year-old, Tyler is dextrous with his hands; Josh, all curls and unabashed smiles, is more interested in getting glitter on as many surfaces as possible. It’s October, and they’re instant friends. 

It’s February, and Tyler - rosy cheeks and red mittens - catches up with Josh on the playground, puffs out a breath, asks him, clumsily, to be his _Valentime_. Josh grins, nods, blinks in surprise when Tyler grabs his pudgy cheeks and plants a kiss on his winter-chapped mouth. They spiral away from each other in fits of giggles. 

“Don’t tell,” Tyler says, still lost in laughter. “It’s a secret.” 

Josh nods, blushes. “Okay.” 

*

It’s October again, and their third grade class is at the Natural History museum in the city. Somewhere between the dinosaurs and the rainforest exhibit, Josh takes hold of Tyler’s hand, and they make their way like that, following the group, teachers and chaperones smiling down at their clasped hands indulgently. Cheerful, innocent, they think nothing of it. But under the exit sign, on their way out, Josh hears the words, from the mouth of a perfect stranger, a clear as day:

_...holding hands…at this age... what kind of parents?... embarrassing, frankly._

He doesn’t understand it any more than he understands his mother’s answer, later, when he asks her what’s wrong with two boys holding hands. 

“Don’t let anyone else hear you talking like that, Josh,” she scolds. 

He can’t make sense of it. He stays silent. 

*

It’s sixth grade, it’s sixth period, and Josh is supposed to be in Social Studies, but he’s too busy getting pushed into an empty locker for being a _fairy boy._ He barely has time to cry before Tyler is there, his fist making swift contact with the bully’s nose, and Josh’s eyes are wide at the amount of blood that’s makes its way onto the ground before a firm hand is steering them towards the main office.

They’re crying, both of them - perched next to each other on too-small chairs outside the Principal’s closed door. 

“Is it true?” Tyler says softly. 

Josh doesn’t have to ask what he means. He nods. He can’t look at Tyler. “Do you hate me?” 

“No,” Tyler promises through tears, but he can’t seem to look at Josh either. “No. But Josh - don’t tell anyone.” 

Josh doesn’t respond. 

*

It’s Freshman year. Tyler makes Varsity, and Josh walks to the beat of his own drum, but they make time for each other - they always do. It’s their first sleepover in awhile, but Tyler’s bedroom feels like home, feels like breathlessness, feels like fire and rain when Tyler kisses him all night long, a hand in his hair and another on his hip as they gasp into each other’s mouths.

“I love you,” Tyler says against his collarbone, and then, “Don’t tell anyone.” 

They fall asleep in different beds. 

When Josh sees him holding hands with a cheerleader at lunch the next day, he skips the rest of his classes to cry in the library. 

*  
On Tyler’s sixteenth birthday, he gets on his knees in the empty gym locker room and takes Josh’s dick into his mouth, sucking him off, swallowing everything like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, while Josh shakes and covers his mouth and closes his eyes. For a moment, Tyler looks at him like he’s made of stars - but then he’s turning red, looking upset.

Josh looks at the floor. _“Don’t tell anyone,”_ he recites. “I know.” 

*  
In Junior year, Josh finds Tyler, gaunt and skeletal, with fingers down his throat in the school bathrooms after lunch. Years of painful intimacy have trained Josh to cry when Tyler does, and so, tearful, Josh holds him while he sobs, while he shakes, while he begs Josh not to tell, _don’t tell, please don’t tell._

*  
By their last year of high school, at last, their little world has settled into a comfortable balance. Tyler has finally realized that basketball doesn’t make him happy, that his body is fine just how it is. Both of them, individually, have picked up music. It’s less of a hobby, more of a salvation. 

Josh has accepted that he’ll never get to be with Tyler the way he wants to. He figures it’s fine, he figures that Tyler can’t help it if he’s straight, he figures that when this hell is over, Josh will go to college and find people who understand him, who want him for who he is. The thought gets him through - he’s counting on it. 

What he’s not counting on is walking out to the bus loop after school to find the entire cheerleading team congregated in front of the line of yellow school buses. It takes him a solid few seconds to make out the words on the giant signs that they’re holding, letters arranging themselves in front of his eyes, forcing him to blink, to pinch himself, to freeze in an open-mouthed frown. 

Because he’s given up on this already.

Because it doesn’t make sense. 

Because a ten-foot long, glitter-covered sign saying _Josh, will you go to prom with me?_ seems like the polar opposite of _not telling anybody._

Belatedly, Josh tries not to cry - but it’s far too late. Tyler emerges from the crowd of cheerleaders, takes Josh’s cheeks in his hands - much like he had on Valentines day when they were six. They’re surrounded, but Josh can only focus on Tyler, sees and feels and hears nothing but Tyler’s voice telling him that _he knows he’s three years late, but that he loves him, that he’s an idiot, that he wants everyone to know, and would Josh please be his date to prom and also his boyfriend but only if he wants._

And when Josh takes him by the shoulders, when Josh kisses him hard on the mouth in front of of the dozens of onlookers, nothing could matter less than whether they’re scoffing or cheering or laughing. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t let himself care.

*

When Josh fucks Tyler into the mattress after graduation, and they’re lying in lovestruck post-coital bliss, he turns to Tyler with a grin on his face. 

“Never thought you’d be a screamer.”

Tyler huffs, shoves him playfully, looks at him with utter, unabashed affection. 

“Don’t worry,” Josh adds, placing his palm on Tyler’s cheek and kissing him, sweet and long and generous. “I won’t tell.”

**Author's Note:**

> guess i just don't even have a genre anymore, oops!


End file.
